Hurt You?
by 1note
Summary: Takes place immediately after "Breath and Skin." Walter and Chloe make a stopover on their way to Jubilation.


**A/N:** While I am perfectly happy with the way "Breath and Skin" ended (which you really should read first), I really wanted to give these two some quality catching-up time ;-) So I wrote this.

Warning: This story contains adult situations, hence the rating. So turn away, you naughty kids out there!

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Watchmen or any of its characters.**

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They traveled through the morning, into early afternoon, just to put some distance between themselves and the horrors of the city they left behind.

Chloe pulled into the next town, too exhausted to drive any further. She parked at a small, generic hotel and turned to the half-conscious man beside her. "I'm gonna get us a room. You okay here?"

Walter nodded, eyes closed.

Chloe got out of the truck, shuffled through the door to the hotel's registry. A balding, fifty-something man hoisted himself from his chair at the woman's approach and stood at the counter. "Help ya?"

"Like a room," she mumbled, "Double occupancy."

"Separate beds?"

"No."

"'Kay, just need your driver's license."

Chloe dug out her ID, handed it to the man. The man, whose nametag identified him as "Roy," glanced at the card, then looked again more closely. "From New York?" he asked soberly.

The woman nodded. Roy handed the license back, turned and selected a key hanging from the board behind him. "Here. Room 104. No charge."

Chloe blinked in bleary surprise. "Huh?"

Roy regarded the tired woman with sympathetic eyes. "Think you've already paid enough."

Chloe's eyes met the man's in gratitude. She accepted the key with a quiet thank you, throat tightening, then quietly stepped out of the office and returned to the pickup. Not surprisingly, Walter had dozed off. She gently shook him awake. "Walter, I got us a room."

Walter yawned, climbed slowly from the truck's cab, still holding the framed photo of Chloe and her departed husband. Chloe took the picture from him and laid it on the floor of the cab, shut the door, then took Walter's hand and led him to their room. Modest, but clean, the room contained a queen-sized bed, a sofa, table, dresser, and a TV bolted to a stand in the corner. Another door led to a bathroom with a shower/tub. Chloe looked at the redhead beside her; his clothes were rumpled and stained with blood and dirt, his hair matted and face haggard. She placed a hand on his cheek. He turned his bleary, reddened eyes to her.

"Why don't you take a shower," she suggested, "while I find some new clothes for you?"

Walter's eyes widened in sudden, irrational fear. He didn't want her to go. What if she didn't come back? Chloe hugged him, whispered reassuringly, "I won't be long, I promise."

Walter nodded reluctantly, too tired to protest. Chloe stepped out of the room. There was a small department store about a block away. She walked to it, bought a couple of pairs of jeans and shirts, socks and underwear, and hoped she'd guessed the sizes correctly. She also bought a first-aid kit. When she returned she found Walter's soiled clothes in a heap on the floor and heard the distinctive hiss of the shower through the partially open bathroom door. Chloe set the shopping bag on the table next to her overnight bag, undressed, and stepped into the bathroom. She could make out Walter's blurred figure through the foggy shower door, head slumped forward. She slid the door aside and gasped at the sight. Scrapes and large purple bruises mottled Walter's fair skin. He turned his head slowly, managed a weak smile. "Looks worse than it is."

Chloe stepped into the shower, closed the sliding door behind her. Walter swayed on his feet, he was so tired. Chloe wrapped her arms around him, let him rest his head on her shoulder. Hot water cascaded over them, easing sore muscles and lulling them further into drowsiness. After a while Chloe unwrapped the tiny bar of hotel soap and washed them both. Walter stood, eyes closed, as gentle hands spread the lather over his battered frame. He hardly reacted as she washed his hair from the little bottle of shampoo. Clean and rinsed, Chloe shut off the shower and coaxed Walter out of the stall to dry him off, then led him out of the bathroom to the bed. She got out the first-aid kit, cleaned the minor cuts and scrapes she found on him. She then cleaned the nasty scrape on her knee, wincing at the antiseptic's sting, and taped a large band-aid over it. She put the kit away, crawled under the covers with Walter, both still naked. Though the bed offered plenty of room, their bodies remained close, arms wrapped around each other as if fearful one or the other would vanish. As the afternoon light filtered through the curtains, the couple drifted off into deep, dreamless slumber.

Walter woke with a gasp, fearful that the events hours before had been an illusion, and Chloe had not miraculously survived. But no, there she was beside him in the hotel bed. Judging from the angle of the sunlight through the curtains, the faint birdsong outside, they had slept through the afternoon and the entire night into morning. He stared at the slumbering woman, flat on her back, head turned away and graying hair fanned over the pillow, her bare shoulders peeking from under the floral-print comforter. If he looked closely, he could see the pulse in her neck, slow and steady; the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Alive.

Walter reached out and placed his hand upon her chest, over her heart; felt its steady rhythm. He marveled at the contrast between his pale, freckled hand against her brown skin. Her warmth brought a surge of desire. His hand crept lower, under the blankets, and cupped her breast. Chloe sighed in her sleep, stirred but didn't waken. Walter slid his hand even lower, over her slightly pooched stomach, down to that triangle of curls. His fingertips parted her warm folds, found the pearl-like nub. Chloe gasped at his pleasurable touch. Her eyes flew open, back arched. Her head lolled on the pillow to meet the redhead's gaze. He smiled at her as his fingers circled and stroked her most sensitive area. Chloe lunged, mouth crashed into his, tongues clashing for dominance. She rolled on top of him. Her hand grasped and steadied his erect member as she impaled herself upon it. There was no slow romance to their actions. Chloe rode him mercilessly, her passions overwhelming her usual tenderness. The emotional turmoil of the previous day brought an edge to their shared desire. They needed this, needed to release their pent-up fears in this powerful, life-affirming act. Walter gripped her thighs with bruising fingers and struggled to maintain control until he felt her tighten around him, heard her cry out as she climaxed, then added his own voice to hers as his body tensed in release. Chloe collapsed panting on top of him. She felt as if her entire skeleton had liquefied. Walter wrapped his arms around her, taking comfort from the weight of her on top of him.

Chloe laughed breathlessly. "Jeez! I don't know what came over me."

Walter's fingers traced her spine; she shivered in response. "Think you gave me some more bruises," he murmured, smiling.

Chloe looked at him in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

He brushed the sweat-dampened hair from her brow. "Not complaining." He stroked her cheek, stared into her hazel eyes, pupils rimmed in blue sunbursts of joy. "I love you."

Chloe's breath caught. It was the first time he'd uttered those words. "I love you, too."

Walter kissed her, his tongue slid into her mouth, danced against hers. Chloe felt him grow hard inside her, felt her pulse quicken in response. They rolled until Walter was on top. Their mouths parted; a thread of saliva, thin as spider's silk, connected them. They kissed again, deeply. Walter started to move in slow, steady thrusts. Their mouths opened, lips touching, their breaths moving in and out of each other. Chloe groaned, arched beneath him. Walter kissed his way down her slender neck, her collar bone, down to her breast. His mouth closed over a taut nipple. He swirled his tongue around the areola, flicked the tip of his tongue against the peaked flesh. Chloe moaned loudly, her fingers tangled in his red hair. Walter released her nipple, kissed his way to the other breast. Lips and tongue and teeth sent electric shocks through Chloe's body, bringing moans and gasps from her throat. All the while he thrust in and out, neither slowing nor speeding up. Chloe bucked against him, trying to get him to quicken his pace, but he persisted in torturing her. He raised his head to look in her eyes, grinned at the frustrated ecstasy he saw in her expression. His hand suddenly went under her left knee, lifted her leg and hooked it over his shoulder. Chloe cried out as this new angle drove him deeper inside of her. Heard him groan, but still he kept his pace slow. Damn him, where did this self control come from?

He couldn't have said. Everything in him wanted to let go, but he fought those urges. He wanted to prolong the experience as long as humanly possible. The intensity of their lovemaking brought a clarity to his perceptions he'd never before experienced. Every sigh and moan, every whimper elicited from the woman beneath him; the beads of sweat on her skin, pooling in the hollow of her throat; he heard and saw it all in piercing detail. He felt her inner walls pulse around him, so close to her final release. Holding back was agony, but he didn't want it to end.

Chloe's fingers dug into his upper arms. She felt as if she was on the verge of exploding. "Walter, please!"

"_Please?"_ His voice was low, a Rorschach rasp. It sent a tremor through her.

"Please," she whispered, gazing into his blue eyes.

Walter smiled, let her leg slide off his shoulder to wrap around his waist once again. He kissed her deeply, soulfully. "I love you." His pace quickened, but not as much as she craved. She felt the tension in him, the trembling in his muscles as he struggled with himself.

"Stop…holding back," Chloe managed between gasps, "It's okay. You won't hurt me."

A sound emerged from him, a mixture of anxiety and lust. His resolve crumbled and he finally let himself go. He pounded into her, harder and faster than he ever had before. She cried out with each thrust, hips rising to meet his. Their shared climax hit with an explosive suddenness that made their voices rise in rapturous howls. Walter's vision actually went white for a moment and he thought he might pass out. Then he remembered to breathe. He lay, gasping, with his head pillowed on Chloe's chest, blissfully exhausted. He listened to the slowing beat of her heart, the rush of air in her lungs. After a moment he raised his head to look at her. Chloe lay with her forearm over her eyes. She panted, managed a weak laugh. "Whoa. Think I saw stars for a second there." She lifted her arm from her eyes, let it flop bonelessly onto the mattress beside her. She smiled at Walter with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Hurt you?" he asked, concerned by his earlier roughness.

She shook her head. "No more than I hurt you."

Walter grimaced. "Hurt me pretty bad."

"_What?"_

Walter grinned at her wide-eyed alarm. "Joking."

Chloe grabbed the extra pillow, slapped the side of his head with it. "Jerk," she laughed.

His expression softened. He traced the edge of her jaw with his finger. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked quietly.

"Should've gone with you when you left." He swallowed around a soreness building in his throat. "Almost lost you."

Chloe cupped his face tenderly. "But you didn't. We both made it."

"Won't make that mistake again," he vowed, "I'll stay with you wherever you go."

Chloe smirked. "Except when I'm in the bathroom?"

Walter snorted. "Sure. Except then. But I'll be right outside the door."

Chloe giggled.

Walter shifted, started to get off her, but Chloe tightened her arms around him. "Don't. I like having you on me."

"Not too heavy?"

"No. You're not that big a guy. 'Cept where it matters, of course." She grinned. Walter blushed. "I can't believe you're still bashful after what we just did!"

"Can't help it." He buried his face in the crook of her neck where it met the shoulder, breathed in her scent. It was amazing, he thought, how much he'd changed. Before he met Chloe, the very idea of any sort of intimacy with a woman would have made him nauseous. He'd thought of sex as just another disgusting vice, spreading disease and misery, bringing unwanted and neglected children into the cruelty of the world. He'd avoided physical closeness as if it were a plague. He hadn't understood that there was a world of difference between mindless fucking and making love. Chloe had shown him that difference. She was the first and only woman he'd ever been with; the only one he wanted. He wished he knew what he'd done to deserve her.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked him, cutting into his thoughts.

"What?"

"That thing you did with my leg over your shoulder," she grinned, "Where'd you learn that?"

A shadow passed over his face; a look of shame and bad memories. Walter rolled off of Chloe, lay with his back to her. Confused and troubled, Chloe put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered in a dull monotone.

Chloe pulled on his shoulder, made him roll onto his back. "Look at me."

He reluctantly met her gaze. Her brow was furrowed with concern. He didn't want to tell her; didn't want her to know his awful past. But she'd asked, and Chloe deserved the truth, no matter how painful to him. "My mother…" he hesitated, averted his eyes from hers, "My mother was a whore. Brought strange men home, for money. Sometimes…I saw…things."

He heard her sharp intake of breath, felt her hand against his cheek. "Did they hurt you?" she whispered.

He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to remember. That man, fat and ugly. His mother, passed out on her bed. The fat man creeping into little Walter's room, breath reeking of cheap whiskey and cigarettes. Those hard hands. That terrible weight. _Say one goddamn word an' I'll kill you'n your bitch momma. Cut yer goddamn throats 'n drop ya in th' river._

Walter felt the burning in his eyes, his throat. He buried his face in the pillow, but couldn't stifle the sobs that wracked his body. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, baby." Chloe held him, tears falling from her own eyes. "It wasn't your fault."

"I didn't w-want you to know."

"It's okay. I love you just the same. No matter what you did or what happened to you. I love you."

He looked at her, tear-stained and fearful. "Why?"

She cradled his face in her hands, kissed him softly. "Because you make me whole, Walter. You make me feel complete. And because you love me just as much as I love you."

"No." He shook his head, sniffled. "I love you more. I do. And I know I don't deserve you."

Chloe smiled at him, so full of empathy and tenderness. "Well, I'm afraid you're stuck with me, 'cause I'm not ever letting you go again."

He stared at her and knew she spoke the truth. He couldn't understand her feelings for him, and he decided then that he wasn't going to try. He was just going to have to make sure he made her as happy as she deserved to be. Walter kissed her then with a desperate hunger, a need to banish those awful memories with new ones of her. Their bodies rolled on the hotel bed as they made love yet again, their movements slow with weariness. They whispered words of love, promises of a shared future. Then, all too soon, they reached their climax and lay entwined in each other's arms as sleep overtook them once more.

The next morning they got back into the pickup and continued on their journey to Jubilation.


End file.
